


the grief of nations

by aces



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Episode Tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-17
Updated: 2010-03-17
Packaged: 2017-10-08 01:58:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/71524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aces/pseuds/aces
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>I know the purity of pure despair,<br/>My shadow pinned against a sweating wall.</i><br/>	~Theodore Roethke</p>
            </blockquote>





	the grief of nations

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for "Counterstrike," season 10 episode.

Extinguished.

"Teal'c?"

There weren't any lights on. Simple darkness.

"Colonel Mitchell."

No candles lit.

"Teal'c, man." Cam paused, squinted into the darkness. Gave up. "You okay?"

"No."

Cam decided: nothing ventured, nothing gained.

"I'm…sorry," he said and ventured a little further into the room. He resisted sticking his hands out to touch where he was going. Didn't want to push his presence too much.

"As am I."

Cam stopped moving.

"You've been fighting for this for a long time." He hesitated and sat down. Straight down, on the ground, cold concrete beneath his fingers, his BDU-covered ass. "I'm sorry…I'm sorry it didn't last longer."

"We are weak." Cam bet that Daniel could tell him exactly what that tone of voice meant, but without the eyebrow Cam was just floundering in the dark. "We have been divided and controlled for centuries." There was no sound of movement in the darkness, no indications. "I did not expect it would be easy."

"Two years," Cam said. Fingers scraping on cold concrete, nervous. "Two _years_. Not even. How can you be so calm?"

Movement, then. Sound. Cam couldn't see. "I am not, Colonel Mitchell." Voice shaking. This room was supposed to be lit by hundreds of candles and it was dark. "We are not yet free. Sometimes I fear we will never be free." A release of air. "I am _not_ calm."

Cam bowed his head.

"Why are you here, Colonel Mitchell?"

Cam shrugged, despite the night-blindness. "Checking up on you," he said. "I brought you back here."

"I would not have come back had I not wanted to."

"No one else would have bugged you as much."

"Bra'tac is of Chulak," said Teal'c, thoughtful. "I have become of the Tauri."

"Is that a bad thing?"

"It requires—readjustment." More shuffling. "I expected Daniel Jackson," he said.

"We drew straws," Cam said. "Jackson lost."

A huff, a breath, a strike of a match, a tiny glow from a single flame. Teal'c's outline sharpened, cross-legged and mirroring Cam, but the eyebrow was still indistinct. "I am not okay, Colonel Mitchell."

"That's okay, Teal'c," said Cam, "you don't have to be." He stood up, hesitated before blowing Teal'c's candle out.

"Thank you," said Teal'c.

Cameron walked out, carefully.


End file.
